To Cover Me In Snow
by Katie Havok
Summary: "Then I suppose I'm responsible for the snow," he says once they're comfortably settled. "Why is it that my manifestations are always wet?" She gives him a deadpan look while shifting uncomfortably. "You really have to ask?" / Newt and Tina in the style of Hades and Persephone.


**Warning:** explicit sexual content ahoy, as well as pretentious mythological themes. In other words, it's Newt and Tina but done in the style of Hades and Persephone. It may surprise you which is which...

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Tina's fingers tremble when she reaches for Newt's bowtie, tugging it loose before setting upon the buttons on his shirt. His hands toy with the hem of her tunic before he yanks it off, his mouth latching to the sensitive skin on her neck until she gently shrugs him off to reclaim his lips.

They kiss deeply, tongues pressing together while wrestling with his trousers. Newt's panting when they part, freckles stark against his flushed cheeks.

She pushes her fingers into his hair to scratch at his scalp and he purrs roughly, capturing her wrist to kiss it before gently pinning her to the mattress.

"Six months apart," he breathes in her ear, making her shiver, "and every night, I've dreamed of this. Please let me use my mouth on you..."

She manages a short, breathless _"Yes!"_ and is rewarded with his fingers tangling in the lacy edge of her shift as he slips down her body. Newt hums while hooking it along her thighs, leaving it to flutter over the edge of the mattress in a waft of silk while he mouths the bend of her knee.

Tina digs her blackened fingertips into the duvet as Newt sinks between her legs, kissing a wet trail along her inner thigh until his mouth finds her center, lips and tongue claiming her gently but thoroughly, his expression keen in the low light of the room.

Tina braces herself on the nape of his neck while closing her eyes, awash with pleasure. Newt makes small, hungry sounds as he samples her, hips rolling into the arch of her foot when she presses it against his groin. His fingers card through the silky hair covering her pubis, straying occasionally to paint abstract shapes over her hips and thighs with her own moisture, before lacing their fingers together over her stomach as he presses two fingers up and in, crooking them toward him as his gleaming eyes drink in her reactions.

Heat blooms deep within Tina's belly as she moans, her skin puckering into goosebumps. Newt murmurs her name encouragingly, moving his fingers faster and biting his lip. She shifts so one leg is slung over his shoulder, curling around him as her breath catches, limbs trembling.

Beneath her, the once-smooth duvet turns springy-soft and slightly itchy, but she doesn't have time to process the abrupt change before Newt groans and the tense coil at her center releases all at once, orgasm sweeping her away.

Tina reaches for him when she comes back to herself, her hands clumsy in their eagerness. Newt chuckles warmly but offers no resistance when she tugs him over her, a calloused palm cradling her cheek, his other hand fumbling between them.

He kisses her deeply while lining them up, and Tina finds she must break it to breath when he pauses teasingly, his mouth bitten red as a pomegranate, one eyebrow arched in question.

"Do it," she tells him, tenderly pushing the hair out of his eyes as he slides into her, filling all her achy, hollow places.

Newt drops his head between his shoulders to voice a long, beautiful moan before meeting her eyes. He bites his lip while threading her hair back, fisting a hank of it with his first thrust before relaxing his grip. She turns her head to kiss his wrist and palm before guiding his middle finger into her mouth, rewarded with the reflexive snap of his hips when she suckles it deeply before wrapping her tongue around the digit, teasing his callouses.

She releases his hand to smirk up at him, and Newt growls playfully before latching his lips to the most sensitive part of her neck. She moans, back arching as his hips move faster and his fingertips find her clit. Her skin tingles beneath his mouth, heating up almost unbearably, and she knows there'll be a mark for her to magic away when he breaks the seal of his lips to lick the spot wetly.

He kisses a path back to her mouth with a low groan as Tina shifts beneath him, tangling their calves together and rocking her hips back. The new angle allows Newt to sink to the root, and she tightens around him to hear his broken gasps before deepening their kiss, a rainbow of colors bursting against her closed eyelids when his mouth transfers to her ear.

"Say it," he pleads in a ragged murmur while settling lower over her. "Please."

"Newt," Tina gasps, muffling her low moans in his shoulder. "Oh, Newt!"

Newt's fingers glide steadily over her, his thrusts adeptly angled to brush the sensile spot within that makes her thighs tremble. She gasps when her stomach begins to clench, grinding her forehead into his collarbone as everything inside her contacts, pulling her along. Newt hisses, fingers stuttering when he chokes her name, and the scrape of his teeth along her ear is the final push she needs.

Tina's orgasm overtakes her with a force like birthing, like dying, and she clutches him with eyes screwed shut until she is left wrung-out and gasping, scarcely able to recall her name.

She opens her eyes when Newt makes a formless sound above her, tipping his forehead against hers and reaching for her hand to press their palms together. If her release was a force of nature, then watching his is like witnessing something celestial and unknown: his entire body shivers, fingers clenching, and his eyes are green-gold fire when his hips snap one final time and he sighs her name, their sweaty skin sealing them together.

Newt pants against her mouth as he collapses over her, taking a moment to find his equilibrium before kissing her sweetly. "I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that," he murmurs, a smile in his voice when he cranes his neck to look up.

Above them, snow with no discernible source falls gently, disappearing before reaching the bed. His duvet, Tina realizes, has changed from familiar brown-and-green plaid to a bed of lush summer grass; it tickles the back of her thighs when she unfolds her legs. Colors reminiscent of the Northern Lights flicker at the juncture where ceiling and wall meet, and Newt holds out his hand, palm up, to capture a few snowflakes before laughing and rolling off of her.

"I wonder which of us grew the grass," Tina muses while going into the ring of his arms, toying with the light smattering of coppery hairs growing between the freckles on his chest.

"I think that was _you_ since that's the first thing that cropped up," Newt says easily, eyes smiling down at her before brushing his lips across her forehead.

"The goddess of the dead cannot _create_ things," Tina denies flatly, before musing, "I must have caused the lights too, then. I saw them while we were making love."

Newt hums noncommittally, tugging the throw blanket draped across the foot of the bed over their bodies as the grass beneath them withers and disappears. "Then I suppose I'm responsible for the snow," he says once they're comfortably settled. "Why is it that my manifestations are always _wet_?"

She gives him a deadpan look while shifting uncomfortably. "You really have to ask?"

Newt looks away as a faint blush infuses his ears. Tina giggles before kissing him, a casual flick of her fingers evaporating the mess before they meld into their typical sleeping arrangement. He cradles the cool, soft flesh of her breast, thumb lazily circling her nipple as she nuzzles her face into his throat.

"There's a certain poetic harmony there," he says quietly. "Well, maybe _harmony_ isn't the right word, perhaps symmetry works better, but…"

"Yes," Tina says, and closes her eyes, sharply reminded of how far they've come together, and have far they have yet to go. "I know what you meant. Now go to sleep, Newt."

He touches her hair with a breath of laughter. "Yes, my darling," he whispers, and she feels him relax at her side, his breathing growing long as he sinks into the welcoming embrace of Hypnos.

She lays awake a while longer, steadfastly counting down the days to his inevitable departure and wishing, not for the first time, that the duration of their time together was measured against something more substantial than a mouthful of seeds.

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Thanks, as always, to kemara for beta- and proof-reading, and constant encouragement. Come find me on Tumblr at katiehavok, if that's your thing.


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